


I would know him in death, at the end of the world

by cassiecasyl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agender Character, Canon Universe, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel in the Empty (Supernatural), Epic Love, Feels, First Kiss, Fluffy Ending, Inspired by The Song of Achilles, Love Wins, M/M, Poetic, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Self-Sacrificing Castiel (Supernatural), Worried Dean Winchester, not betaed we die like persons, why is it that lately everything i write for those idiots turns poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28528419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiecasyl/pseuds/cassiecasyl
Summary: Castiel awakes in the Empty, puzzled and threatened. He means to hear his name in a whisper calling him away.
Relationships: Castiel & The Empty | The Shadow (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68





	I would know him in death, at the end of the world

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally finished reading TSoA (if you haven't read it, I highly recommend it!) around Christmas and this just kinda happened. 
> 
> This fic deviates a little from my usual writing style as it is written in the present. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

_In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood, like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun._

\- Madeline Miller, _The Song of Achilles  
_

* * *

It is cold when he wakes up. Castiel frowns. The void spans infinitely all around him, filling his eyes with darkness, whispering nothingness. So why does he feel cold? There shouldn’t be a temperature here. The empty is the absence of light, obliteration of life, trying to live up to its name. Yet, it isn’t empty, if proven solely by Cas’s existence. 

His hand shakes with the images of his nightmares that wouldn’t fade as they normally do. A bloody knife in his hand, he stands over Dean, all beaten up and begging, or barely battered, only a scratch on his face. In his dream, his hand rains down to meet his beautiful features, destroying them. Castiel cries out, but nothing leaves his lips. He is trapped once again. 

Then, a change of scene. This time, he is the one on the ground, and Dean raises his knife to kill him. Castiel had failed to stop him, to salvage his soul from the mark’s traces. He would pay for it now, breathing out a last syllable to honor his wasted life. “ _No…_ ” It is only written in his eyes for now, but apparently, it is enough. The knife flashes down, impaling a book next to his face. Castiel is shattered by the splinters, but he’s strangely okay as he stares at the ragged, bloody blade and Dean walks away in the background. He failed. It’s a numb feeling to know there is still hope, though. 

He’s been here before, hanging from a rope, looking at his decaying feathers for hope. They were memories he then realizes, clean-cut flashbacks to the atrocities of his life. Unfading, heavy images in the middle of oblivion, designed to torture him, or make him regret. He doesn’t really know their purpose. Maybe, this is what hell feels like, he muses, just endless suffering for agony’s sake. He remembers touching Dean’s fractured soul at the start of everything, remembers the blood he could never wash off, the fear, the pain, the guilt. 

But nothing is as painful as the knowledge he bears; that Dean would never want him back, that the thing in his dreams would stay there. It is as if he is shedding his feathers again and again, and they’re more barren each time, laced with blood from countless battles. There is no happy ending for them. He’s finally accepted this, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. _Happiness is in the being_ , he reminds himself, biting back a sob. _Dean Winchester is saved._

“Why are you awake?” disapproval snarls at him, and a single tear escapes the angel’s eye, fleeing down his cheek towards the inexplicable ground. He turns around. 

“I… I don’t know,” Cas answers truthfully. _Why is he awake?_ He should be trapped in his nightmares right now, relieving his greatest failures just as he deserves. 

The Empty raises an eyebrow on Meg’s face they now wear. “Go back to sleep,” they order nonchalantly, mustering him closely. It is a deja-vu, and Cas laughs through the pain at the ridicule of his situation. Again and again, he’s found himself facing death, dodging it, arguing with it, playing with it. When he wanted to, he never stayed dead. It is his rock at the side of a mountain, but he sees the opportunity to go home. 

“No,” he says, deliberately opening his eyes wider. Even if he could, he doesn’t want to go back to hell. The Empty sighs heavily. 

“Why can’t you just sleep?” they question, growing increasingly infuriated, “It’s always you. Not even Lucifer made that much trouble.” 

He doesn't know. Maybe the crack in his chassis runs deeper somehow, causing the world to stir. The angel doesn’t know whether he should be proud or sorry. He thinks he hears his name then, in a light whisper, and he yearns for the voice to enwrap him. They both look to the side, Castiel with a hopeful smile and the Empty’s face a disgusted grimace. 

"Let me guess, it's because of Dean Winchester?" they ask, all but spitting out his name, "The _human_ you love so much?" 

The whispers grow louder, revealing a desperate chant. It is light taking Cas’s hand and pulling him away. A broken plea, tears on a barren face. “ _Cas, please come back._ ” Dean.

A dark laugh separates them momentarily. “Love is such an abhorrently human concept. It is every hero’s downfall. And yet, you let it take you.” 

Castiel shakes his head. The entity’s words are all wrong. Dean has changed him, taken the veil from his eyes, giving him a reason to fight. “Love is beautiful,” he says, “He is beautiful. It is deeply human, and flawed, sure, but it is the most profound bond I have ever experienced. And if that is my downfall, then I’d fall a thousand times over. Because I love him, and he has shown me the meaning of home, of family.” 

The light fiercely grabs him tight and pulls him out of the void. It is a mirror of their first meeting, with reversed roles. Dean came for him. He stumbles out of the gooey portal, fighting the last remains of the Empty before he is hit with warmth. Light is replaced by a body, holding him close, hands searching his vessel for injuries. “Dean,” he breathes. 

“Cas,” the hunter replies as if he is the oxygen he was missing. “Cas.” It is a melody, repeated over the steady beat of their hearts and the unsteady bass of their tears. _Cas_. 

“I love you,” the angel sings a new verse despite old fear. 

“Cas, you feathery idiot, don’t ever do this again,” Dean scolds him. As always, his worry is thickly laced with anger. “I need you, you hear me? I need you, and you can’t just-” His voice breaks as he swallows against a sob, and it is Cas’s turn to gather the human in his arms. 

“It was the only way,” he apologizes, but they both know he’d do it again. “I love you,” he repeats, a promise, because it is right there before their blind gazes. Their lips meet in a haze, and the taste of salt and alcohol burns on Cas’s tongue. It is Dean, through and through. Unconsciously, he pulls him closer, breathing against his human’s lips. It is even warmer now that the sun has come out to dry their tears. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment? Maybe? Please? 
> 
> you can also find me on [tumblr](https://cassiecasyl.tumblr.com).


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